The Don’s Wrongly Accused Bride

At the Shelby family's underground casino, I was carrying a tray past the last table when someone whistled.

"Well, well, if it isn't the esteemed Ms. Loren."

He raised his eyebrows theatrically and said to his buddy, "You know who she is? She's a big deal! The old Don loved her. She almost got to be the Donna!"

The other guy flicked his cigarette ash onto my tray and laughed.

"The Donna? A mole?

"The Shelby family never would've been ambushed at the West Docks if she hadn't leaked the convoy's route!

"The fact that Derek didn't just put a bullet in her? That's him being sentimental."

I kept my eyes down and didn't argue. I just gathered the glasses onto my tray one by one.

I'd been hearing this stuff for three years.

Nobody cared that I'd gone to see Vincent that day to warn him there was a rat in the family.

And nobody believed that the so-called evidence had been planted in my room ahead of time.

From that night on, I went from being the future Donna of the Shelby family to its supposed traitor. Derek kept me trapped in his territory and tormented me, making my life unbearable while refusing to let me die.

But I had to stay alive, because he still had my little sister.

When the place cleared out in the early hours, I finally pulled myself off the floor. My skirt was soaked with liquor, and there were cigarette burns down my back.

After spending the whole night as a human card table, I stumbled into the restroom to wash off the ash.

The water had barely started running when I heard a woman's ragged gasps from the stall behind me.

Then came a man's low voice.

I went rigid. I knew that voice all too well.

It was Derek.

I shut off the water right away and turned to leave.

But before I could reach the door, the sounds in the stall stopped.

"Stop right there."

I froze where I stood. Viola Marsh let out a low laugh.

"Derek, there's someone out there."

The stall door swung open, and Derek strolled out with Viola leaning against him.

"Well. It's Sylvia."

My arms were still covered in red cigarette burns, and my skirt was soaked with liquor. I looked like I'd just crawled out of a dumpster.

I lowered my head.

"I'll leave right now."

But Viola blocked the door.

"What's the rush? Stay and watch."

Then she wrapped herself around Derek and kissed him deeply.

When I realized what she was about to do, the color drained from my face.

Before I could react, her dress landed over my head, her perfume clinging to the fabric.

Then her bra, her stockings...

"Hold those carefully. If they get dirty, even selling you wouldn't cover the cost."

With the dress over my face, every sound seemed sharper.

Viola's moans sounded as if they were right in my ear. She kept calling Derek's name and making him say who he loved most.

And every time, Derek answered her fondly, "Viola, I love you most."

Listening to my former lover having sex with another woman was pure agony.

I didn't know how long it went on, but finally, it was over.

I knelt on the floor and helped Viola back into her stockings and heels.

Only then did she straighten up, satisfied, and pat my cheek.

"Sylvia, don't look at me like that.

"The man who used to be yours is mine now."

The door closed again, leaving just Derek and me in the restroom.

He lit a cigar, smoke curling between his fingers.

"Does it hurt? Do you regret betraying the family now?"

I clenched my fists. I wanted to tell him he was the one who should have regrets, not me.

But my little sister, Mia Loren, was still in his hands, so I forced myself to look up.

"Since you're here, could you let me see my sister?"

Derek looked down at me and said nothing for a few seconds.

"You want to know where she is?"

My eyes lit up.

"Yes."

He put out his cigar and leaned in close.

"Sure. Then please me."

"Wh... what?"

I stood there, stunned. At first I didn't understand what he meant.

He lit another cigar, his patience gone.

"You don't get it? After all these years in that casino, you don't know what I mean?"

Of course I knew. But things between Derek and me had changed. I couldn't just lean in and kiss him without thinking anymore.

I dug my nails into my palms. Throwing myself at him felt more humiliating than any backbreaking labor.

On one side was Mia. On the other was my pride.

Mia, pride, Mia, pride...

Derek stubbed out the cigar with his thumb, on the verge of losing his temper. Right then, I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The kiss doused his anger before it could flare. My hand was still pressed against his chest, and for a moment, he seemed to stop breathing.

I didn't know how to tease or flirt. Everything I knew about intimacy, I'd learned from him.

So I just clumsily pressed my lips to his.

The next second, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me hard against him.

"Sylvia, weren't you always so proud?

"Back then, if I so much as touched your waist, you'd pull a gun on me.

"And now, for Mia, you'll even do this?"

His grip hurt so badly that sweat beaded on my forehead, but I still asked, "So when can I see her?"

Derek clenched his jaw and stared at me.

When he saw the stubborn look return to my face, the one that said I'd die before I broke, his lips curved into a nasty smile.

He pulled a gun from the back of his waistband and pressed the cold muzzle to my chest.

"Not scared, right? Our little Sylvie's always been such a brave girl."

His broad frame blocked most of the light, hiding his movements from view. I could only feel the gun sliding down my body.

Then he laughed softly in my ear. Before I realized what he intended, he pressed the cold muzzle between my legs.

I clutched at him and cried out in terror, "Derek, no! Ah—"

As I screamed, searing pain tore through my lower body.

The more I screamed, the better Derek's mood seemed to get. He even cocked the gun just to torment me.

My body's involuntary reaction only excited him more.

I didn't know how long it lasted. Just as I was about to black out, a woman's voice cut in. "Derek, you two..."

He stopped abruptly. Viola had come back.

When she saw us, her face went white.

"What are you doing..."

She turned and ran.

Derek went after her without a second's hesitation.

The gun slipped out of my body, and I could finally breathe again.

But I'd barely caught my breath when blood rose in my throat.

I clamped a hand over my mouth. Blood seeped between my fingers. I fumbled in my pocket for my painkillers.

A few years back, Derek had thrown me into the underground fight club. I took so many beatings that my pancreas was badly damaged.

Dr. Owen Reed, the club doctor, said I wouldn't live another three months if the abuse continued.

I tipped my head back and swallowed the last two pills.

Three months. That should be enough, as long as I found Mia before I died.

I looked down and wiped the blood off my palm.

As for Derek, I didn't owe him a thing.